


Sway

by harinezumiko



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballroom Dancing, Crack, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harinezumiko/pseuds/harinezumiko
Summary: When Marik's partner is injured during the run of a televised professional/amateur dancing competition, he has to learn to trust a new partner. Fortunately, it's an old friend...





	Sway

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to the one person out there who has been longing to read a Yu-Gi-Oh! / Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing With The Stars for US peeps) crossover. I hope it makes your day. This is crossover chaos, all sorts of guest stars will show up, but Marik and Anzu take centre stage.
> 
> (Nadia Dubrovna is my Elementalist Necromancer from Guild Wars. The only things she’s good at are dancing and setting things on fire. Hooray for gratuitous self-inserts!)
> 
> Finally, I would like to apologise to every character I have harmed in the making of this fic – particularly Ryou… A lot can happen to a guy in ten years, so watch me for the changes and try to keep up!*
> 
> *I had my reasons for this but it was going to become apparent in later chapters which I never got around to writing. If anyone of any fandom wants to collab on future chapters let me know!

The cameras were normally unobtrusive during rehearsal time, but today they were doing their utmost to get in Marik’s way.  His warm-up routine finished, and his new partner not yet arrived, Marik sighed internally and decided to face the music.  He reached for a water bottle and took a long swig before turning to the persistent cameraman.

“How are you feeling about meeting your new partner?”  An eager voice came from behind the camera.

“I’m excited,” Marik flashed a grin for the camera.  “I’m sorry Nadia can’t be here, but obviously she needs to rest her ankle.  I think she’s forgiven me now at least, and I’m glad I get to carry on in the competition.  I’m not ready to leave yet.”  He laughed.

The studio door banged shut, and Marik instinctively turned to see who had entered.  “I guess that’s…”

He was interrupted by a long and high-pitched squeal, the visitor dropping her gym bag on the floor to run at him full-tilt, arms out wide and ready to embrace.  “Anzu?” Marik managed to utter incredulously before all the air was squeezed from his lungs.  He glanced back towards the camera, Anzu’s hug now rocking them both from side to side.  “Give us a moment, please.”

* * *

“Oh yes, we’re old friends.”   Anzu chatted away happily to the interviewer, allowing Marik to relax a little on the couch.  He studied her, looking for the changes in the decade that had passed since they last met.  Slight traces of laughter lines around her eyes, covered a little with skilful make-up, but still evident.  A sharper cut to her short brown bob.  A more practiced elegance in her posture as she sat with her legs crossed at the ankles.  But underneath the professionalism, it was the same girl he had known.  Her smile still came easily and she still had that quick rapport with people.  She touched his hand lightly, a gesture meant to draw Marik back into the interview.  “I’ve seen your dancing so far, and there’s definitely some moves I’m looking forward to teaching you.”

“Yeah?”  Marik raised his eyebrows at the suggestion.

“Yeah.  Make sure you eat well over the next three weeks.  You’re going to need strength and stamina.”  Anzu squeezed Malik’s bicep playfully and laughed.  It was infectious.

* * *

“I’m dizzy…”  Marik slipped out of the hold, twirling a couple more times for effect before collapsing on the floor, arms and legs out wide.

“Ha, this is nothing.” Anzu held out a hand and pulled Marik back to his feet, resuming the hold.  “I’ve danced the Viennese Waltz at least twice this fast with Yugi’s grandpa.  Come on, feel it.  I know you can do this.”

Marik made a snort of derision, earning a gentle pat on the face.  “Waltz face, Marik.  Waltz face!”  He did his best to compose his features, but the sight of the two of them in sweat pants in the studio mirrors ruined any illusion of elegance.  “I can feel you laughing,” Anzu accused as she directed the two of them around the room.  “When I said ‘emote’, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“I’m just not feeling it.”  Marik stumbled over a tricky turn.  “The waltz is boring.  Can’t we do something else?  Shouldn’t we be showing off more at this stage of the competition?”

“Boring?  This is a dance with passion.  It’s the wild dance of peasants filtered through frustrated royalty.  If you can do the waltz right, you can literally whisk your partner off her feet.  It can be downright indecent.”

“And you did this with Yugi’s Grandpa?”

“Shush, you.  Now let’s practice that fleckerl again.  Anyway, our dance is about trust.  We’ve got to learn to work together for the first time when everyone else has eight weeks behind them.”

“Trust?”  Marik wondered if there wasn’t more to this than the dance partnership.  He leaned in to speak quietly, in the hopes that the sound boom wouldn’t pick it up.  He tried to choose his words carefully, just in case.  “Anzu, are you sure you’re okay doing this with me?  I mean, after what happened. ”

“Sure.  I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t.”  They were holding each other improperly close now, but still following the waltz steps.  “I know you weren’t yourself.”

“How can you be so forgiving?”

“You of all people should know that no good comes of holding grudges.”  Anzu sighed.  “I thought we were over this.  We got on well in Egypt, didn’t we?”

“I guess.”  Marik hesitated, partly from the subject matter, and partly trying to remember the footwork.  “I was afraid to bring it up.  I didn’t want to know what you thought of me.”  The truth was, Marik thought he knew better than Anzu how she had felt.  He’d been inside her head, felt her presence screaming at him, pushing in a vain attempt to surface, as he’d systematically endangered her and the lives of her friends.  She couldn’t hide raw emotion in such a state, or frame it with pretty words.

“Maybe before this contest is over, you’ll be brave enough to ask.”  Anzu guided Marik back to the opening stance, ready to practice the turn once again.  And Marik understood what she had meant by “trust”.

* * *

“And now, dancing the Viennese Waltz to ‘Nothing Else Matters’, charity worker Marik Ishtar and his partner Anzu Mazaki!”

Marik waited in his assigned spot at the foot of the glittering staircase, one hand resting in the small of his back and the other gracefully outstretched to receive Anzu’s.  As the arpeggios of the music started, Anzu began her elegant descent.  Her smile eased his nerves a little.  He’d been doing this for weeks now, but he still had butterflies at every performance.  Anzu’s long white dress, all sequins and wide feathered ruffles, shone in the studio lights.

They traced the opening steps, Anzu a reluctant debutante twirling into Marik’s arms before pulling away again, until the tempo of the music changed just enough to match the speed of the waltz.  Marik would never admit to his love of high school movies but here, now, was the prom date he had never had.  They swept around the dancefloor, the accompanying song now seeming uplifting with the speed change and the whirl of the waltz.  Marik didn’t need to remember to fix the smile on his face.

The beat slowed once more as the dance drew to a close, Anzu apparently finally accepting her partner’s affections as they finished, kneeling, in a clinch.  There was a slight pause before the applause kicked in, some of the studio audience adding cheers and whistles.  Marik helped Anzu to her feet and the two made their way to the judges’ table.

“That was phenomenal,” the compere, Spirit, addressed the couple.  “It looks like you two have managed to form quite a bond.  But then you were pretty close in rehearsals, right Marik?”  Spirit gave Marik a wink.

“Oh yes, we’re firm friends.”  Marik replied, innocently.  The producers would love to have a romantic partnership develop on the show, and Spirit dug for the dirt every week.  He’d become deft at masking his disappointment.

“Well, let’s see what the judges have to say.  Mint?”

“That was a very lyrical waltz, well done, Marik.  Good extension through the arms, graceful movement, some nice rise and fall.”  Mint demonstrated, gesturing with her hands.  “You’ve had a new partner this week and that must have been difficult, but you covered well.”  Marik smiled, relieved at the review, and Anzu smiled with him.

“Thank you, Mint.  Excalibur?”  The second name prompted boos from the audience.

“Lacklustre.”  The boos grew louder, and Marik had to laugh.  The audience were definitely on his side.  “The dance is so simple, you should be getting it perfect at this stage of the competition.  And the choreography was lame,” Anzu mimed shock as Excalibur pointed his cane at her, “utterly pedestrian.  I don’t know how you think you can get away with turning in such a feeble performance.  Vegeta literally raised the roof earlier, and here you are, as if taking a walk down to the shops-”

“I’m going to have to stop you there, Excalibur,” Spirit interjected.  “Ryou, anything to add?”

The small white thing that was Excalibur folded its arms and began muttering to itself.  “In my day…”

“Outstanding!”  Ryou rose from his chair at the judges’ table, flung his arms wide and caught Excalibur with the back of one hand.  The creature toppled backwards, flailing comically in a futile effort to regain its balance.  “Anzu, you were the Swan Queen, mysterious and unattainable, gliding effortlessly on your frozen lake.  Marik, the prince who melts her icy heart with the red hot power of your passion, and the swing in those hips, wowee she’s going to feel the magic tonight!”  Every time Marik thought Ryou had calmed down enough to take his seat, the judge rose again to gesticulate wildly.  Anzu was shaking with laughter beside him.

“Judges, are you ready to give your scores?”  Spirit interjected.  Silence fell, giving Marik and Anzu time to compose themselves.  Mint made a show of going over her notes, tapping her pen lightly on the desk.  Excalibur already had its scorecard raised, the number firmly pressed to its chest. Ryou waited for Mint to nod to him before responding “We’re ready”.

“Your score please, Mint Aizawa.”

There was a tense pause before she raised the scorecard.  “Eight!”

“Excalibur?”  Spirit gestured to keep the noise down in the audience.   It didn’t work, the boos now rising.

“Six.”

“And finally, Ryou Bakura.”

Ryou shot a fierce glance in Excalibur’s direction.  “Six?  Seriously, six?”  He raised his own scorecard, standing with it and raising the volume of his voice to the accompaniment of the audience’s cheers.  “A resounding nine!”

Spirit turned back to the dancers.   “Twenty-three out of a possible thirty.  Are you satisfied with that, Marik?”

“It’s a good score,” Marik tried to calculate where that would place him on the leaderboard, but there were two couples still left to dance.

Anzu interjected.  “I know we can do better.  Excalibur, we’re going to prove you wrong.  Next week we are going to knock your adorable cotton socks off!"


End file.
